


Happy Valentine's Day, Mistah Steel!

by onetiredboy



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Just all fluff, Other, Peter and Rita are Best Friends, and 5000 words of it, and juno being in love, and peter being dumb, and soft, i dont really know how to sell this, its very cute, look its 2am im very tired, peter learns some shit abt love languages, so........?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: An excitable Martian hacker teaches a nerd from outside the solar system about an old Earth tradition.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 42
Kudos: 194





	Happy Valentine's Day, Mistah Steel!

**Author's Note:**

> 4969 words of valentine's day content, of varying quality. i really wanted this to be super good but i ran out of time and now its 2am and i started writing this at 7pm and havent stopped so i could get it done. hope you enjoy :''').

Peter had actually never heard of it before. That’s not too strange – most Earthen traditions did well to make it as far as off Earth, let alone to the Outer Rim. When Rita ran past him down the hall screaming it at the top of her lungs he’d assumed it was another Rita-ism, a fictional celebration adopted from some stream somewhere.

It was later at breakfast, while Peter sat sipping his coffee, Vespa made toast, and Juno sat with his spoon in a bowl of something and his comms in the other hand, that Juno glanced at the date on his comms, then put it down and said, “Huh. It’s Valentine’s Day next week.”

Peter blinked at him, “Pardon?”

“Valentine’s Day. It’s—” Juno looked at him and then looked away quickly, shrugging a shoulder. “Some dumb Earth tradition,” he mumbled.

“It is _not_ dumb, Mistah Steel!”

Peter and Juno jumped.

“Jesus, Rita, you’re gonna kill a lady!”

“It’s only the best holiday in the entire year!” Rita continued, with no acknowledgement that Juno had spoken. She was dressed in a frilly pink tutu, which Peter realised she’d had on since she went running down the halls past Peter saying the same thing – _Valentine’s Day_. “It’s a day where you celebrate all kindsa love! With your partners or your friends or your best boss ever and even yourself. But especially with your partners,” she giggled and spun around in her tutu, “Oh! Don’t you just wish you could be showered with gifts by someone special, Mistah Steel?”

Juno turned away from her back towards the bench, and his breakfast, “No.”

“Sure, Mistah Steel,” Rita gave Peter an exaggerated wink, in the ‘ _classic Mistah Steel’_ kind of way. “Anyway. Did I ever tell you about the time Frannie and I spent Valentine’s on Venus? Well! It all started…”

But Peter wasn’t listening.

* * *

Later, Juno caught him in the hallway. A hand on his arm, a soft, ‘hey’, and Peter stopped still. How many times had they met like this? Almost as many times as they’d met in each other’s rooms, late at night and in hushed voices like rebellious teenagers hiding from protective parents. It was easier for the rest of the Carte Blanche not to know about them – not until they’d gotten past the rocky stage of trying to figure out whether pursuing a relationship was what either of them even really wanted, anyway.

Juno glanced down the hallway in both directions. His shoulders were drawn in, his hand on Peter’s arm more tight than was comfortable. Satisfied that they were alone, he huffed a sigh and looked up at Peter. “Look. I meant what I said. I’ve spent enough Valentine’s alone to know it’s not really a big deal. Don’t… don’t get me anything, okay? I’m not going to get you anything, and I’ll just be embarrassed if you do.”

Peter stared blankly at him for a moment. “To be honest,” he lied, “I’d completely forgotten about it already.”

Juno’s shoulders relaxed, “Oh, good. Okay. Cool.” He let go of Peter’s arm and stood awkwardly for a moment. Then he nodded, “Alright. I’ll, uh… see you tonight? Your room?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “You mean the one bedroom on the ship that has no neighbours? _My_ , Juno. Why-ever would you want to meet in _that_ room, I wonder.”

“Yeah. That joke was funny the first few times,” Juno rolled his eyes, but a smile danced around the edges of his lips. He punched Peter lightly, “Idiot. I’ll see you later.”

“See you then, love.”

It never got old, the immediate reaction Juno had to pet names – the moment of fluster visible on his pretty face, followed by the drawing up of the shoulders, the sidelong glance he gave Peter before he turned and kept walking down the hallway.

Peter watched him go, contemplating silently. Once he was completely out of sight, he changed course: to Rita’s room.

* * *

“Alright, Mistah Ransom, Dr. Rita is in the house!”

The detour to ask a fairly simple question became incredibly complex after Rita – pardon, _Doctor_ Rita – insisted on dressing up in her best advice-giving clothes before letting Peter step a single toe over the door to her room. Now, fully dressed in white lab-coat and square glasses that looked suspiciously like an old pair had Peter discarded when the fashion trends changed, Rita patted the spot on the floor beside her seriously.

“Thank you,” Peter said, and sat down.

“Now: what can I help you with today?”

“Yes, well. I was wondering if you might tell me more about that Earth holiday you seemed so excited for. Valentine’s.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Rita nodded seriously, peering at him above her glasses while she scribbled something that looked suspiciously like a drawing of a large cow down on a piece of paper propped up on the back of her comms screen, giving the vague effect of a clipboard. After a moment’s silence she prompted, “Go on.”

“Ah. Well, one of my questions had to do with the gift-giving part. You identified that as one of the main features of Valentine’s Day, yes?”

Rita nodded furiously. The cow now had a top hat and a monocle.

“Yes. So what, hypothetically, does one give on Valentine’s Day? You mentioned celebrating with Juno. What kinds of things did you used to buy him?”

“Oh, you know!” Rita put the picture of the cow on her comms down on the floor and spread her arms out, “Clothes, mostly. His favourite snacks. Friend stuff! We both end up single a lot so we used to spend the day together instead, watchin’ movies and cryin’ over how single we are. It’s kinda a tradition. But!” she pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced at Peter, “If… _hypothetically_ speaking, I was lookin’ to get somethin’ in a _romantic_ way for Mistah Steel, cause I thought he was real handsome and also couldn’t stop staring all dreamily at him in Family Meetings and only smile when he’s in the room, and get all soft and mushy around him… _hypothetically_ I’d get him somethin’ like flowers. You know some client or somethin’ got him flowers for his birthday last year? He kept them growin’ for weeks. It was the most I’d seen him care for anythin’.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm. Otherwise, he was talkin’ to me about really wantin’ some nice earrings now that he’s startin’ to care about how he looks an all. And makeup, some of the really fancy stuff. And Mistah Steel’s a simple lady, some chocolate would be real sweet. You know, the normal kinda romantic stuff.”

“Hypothetically,” Peter shuffled on the floor, maintaining an air of feigned nonchalance, “If the person strongly advised against you buying them anything—”

“Oh, that’s just part of the Valentine’s tradition! You meanta act all like you don’t care, or you lose. It’s so when your partner _does_ go outta the way, it’s real surprisin’! It sounds weird, I know, but _Earth_ people usedta shoot each other with arrows while runnin’ around dressed up as babies so really it’s much less strange now.”

“That’s… peculiar.”

“Aw, you ain’t gotta judge them, they hadn’t even figured out _renewable energy_ yet, and that’s preschool stuff.”

“I see.”

“And it’s next week, don’t you forget! Aww, Mistah Steel’s gonna be so happy! I bet you’ve had eyes for him ever since you was Rex Glass, haven’t ya?”

Peter was still unused to that – people being able to _remember_ him, from heists complete eons ago, and the aliases attached. He smiled uncomfortably, “Something like that. Thank you kindly for your help, Miss Rita.”

“That’s Dr. Miss Rita to you!”

“Of course. Pardon me,” Peter stood up from the ground and then reached a hand to help Rita to her feet.

Rita giggled, smoothing down her skirt, “Ooh, he’s a real gentleman! You better treat Mistah Steel as good as this, hypothetically, or he’s gonna get jealous.”

“You…” Peter hesitated. He had always been sure to be careful what he said, especially to Rita, about their relationship. He fully understood, and was grateful for, the secrecy to begin with (there is nothing more awkward, Peter imagines, than breaking up with someone and having all your friends accidentally make reference to the two of you together before remembering), and Juno in particular had warned against letting Rita get any hint. But the border of _hint_ had been crossed and, well… Peter was a fatally curious man.

“Me what?” Rita asked.

Peter began again, “You… would hypothetically approve of it, then? If I were… to pursue Juno, romantically.”

Rita screwed up her face, “Not if you’re gonna use words like ‘pursue’, I ain’t. But…” She fisted her hands in her skirt and swayed from side to side, “I seen the way he hypothetically looks at you too, Mistah Ransom. And it’s about time he had somethin’ nice. Even if that means you’re off the market.”

Peter felt tension evaporate from his shoulders, “Thank you, Rita.”

“Plus! You ain’t got nowhere to hide, so if you do anythin’ wrong we’ll _all_ know about it,” she adds, with a huge smile.

The tension reappears, “Ah.”

“Now go, go, go! You ain’t got hardly a week to get prepared!” Rita ran forward and put her hands in the general vicinity of Peter’s waist and hips and thankfully no lower, pushing him backwards towards the door.

* * *

Most of the preparation was actually rather boring. Peter had to wait until they stopped at their next market in order to get anywhere. Then it was simply a matter of splitting away from the group and wandering into the higher-end portion of the market, the kinds of stalls the Carte Blanche crew weren’t usually to be found in. After that? It was simply a matter of letting his heart run wild.

White-gold earrings in the shape of Earth’s crescent moon, veined with ruby to represent the iconic cracks left after the First Great War, eons ago. A thin triple-chained necklace with a single, delicate pendant of a bird in flight. A nice watch, because Peter could never resist a nice watch. A long dress in blue modelled after mythological creatures called the ‘Ancient Greeks’. Clothes and clothes and clothes and earrings and bracelets and charms for the bracelets. Two full pay-checks and six full bags, but money was never an object to a man who could easily steal what he couldn’t afford, and it felt right to use honest money on something honest to him – and there was nothing more honest in his life than the way he felt about Juno Steel.

He’d worn his biggest jacket today, and each of the six bags found their respective homes in his questionable pockets, and he slipped back on to join the crew.

“Hey,” Juno muttered, hanging a little further back from the rest near a store selling Uranian mushrooms and other assorted rarities, “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, around,” Peter said calmly, in the tone of voice that usually implied crime-related mischief, and Juno rolled his eye.

“I don’t wanna know,” he grumbled. And then looped his arm around Peter’s, “You, uh… wanna go find the food court and catch up with the gang later?”

“I’d love nothing more, my darling.”

* * *

Then the day was upon them. All day Rita had run around throwing fake petals on the floors, and she and Jet were gearing up for a string of (in Rita’s words) ‘movies about best friends on accounta Jet bein’ bored outta his mind if we watch romance’, and despite Jet’s assertion that ‘I do not mind what movie we watch, it is the time spent together that I cherish’. Rita had also been sending large winks Peter’s way, which made her very awkward to be around, and so so far Peter Nureyev had spent most of the day in his room.

This wasn’t the worst thing – he had a plan to set up, after all. The particular assortment of every gift to lie in a prime position on his bed, so that each may be appreciated to the full extent. The idea was to tempt Juno to his room with the usual promise, before surprising him with the full display.

_‘And… all for me?’_

_‘Yes, Juno – every one.’_

_‘Nureyev… I don’t know what to say…’_

_‘I love you, too.’_

_…_ Or something along those lines.

* * *

“Juno, dear?”

“Yeah, coming!”

Peter stepped back from the door and tapped his foot lightly as he waited for Juno’s door to open. He was bubbling with excitement, though he’d contained it all behind a small, pleased smile.

The door opened and Juno stepped out, closing it behind him. He took one glance either way down the hallway before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. He looked up at him, cocked his head to the side, and smiled, “Just the person I wanted to see.”

“Why’s that?”

Juno stepped back out of Peter’s arms and took his hand, leading him back towards his room. He turned around with his back to the door, “You, uh… probably forgot, _but_ … today is Valentine’s Day. On the Solar planets.”

“Oh…?” Peter asked, “I thought you weren’t interested in all that.”

Juno shrugged a shoulder, his eye glancing away, “There were a lot of things I wasn’t interested in… before you. Anyway.”

Juno opened the door to his room and pulled Peter in.

“It’s only small,” Juno warned him, “But, um. I thought it’d be cute.”

Juno had placed little tealight candles on either side of his bed, which were shining with holo-fire. The sheets had been changed and pulled down, and the pillows were arranged like a nest, a tub of ice-cream with two spoons in the middle, and Juno’s comms set up on a stand at the end of the bed.

Peter stared.

“I, um… the ice-cream is kind of a me tradition,” Juno explained. “I used to spend a lot of Valentine’s Days eating ice-cream and watching movies and wishing someone was cuddling me… so…” Juno shrugged and glanced nervously at Peter, “I thought this time I could eat ice-cream and watch movies while… being cuddled?”

“Darling,” Peter turned to him. His mind was still blank, and all his tongue found in the back of his mouth was the same word, so he said, with emphasis, “ _Darling_.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh!” Peter dove into Juno’s arms, making him stumble back and laugh shrilly, his arms wrapping around Peter’s back.

“It’s just ice-cream,” Juno mumbled into his shoulder.

Peter pried himself away just enough to pull Juno into a kiss.

Juno sighed happily into Peter’s mouth, and raised his hands to frame the side of Peter’s face, stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. They kissed long and slow, until Juno pulled back gently. “You have any idea how hard it is not being able to do that to you every time I want to?”

“Almost as hard as it is not to call you my dear, my love, my heart, in front of the rest of the crew?” Peter suggested.

Juno laughed and pulled him down to kiss him again, his lips quirked into a smile against Peter’s, and then he broke away and pulled him backwards, tumbling down onto the bed.

An hour into their second movie, _Love In the Time of Space Colonialism,_ and a half-tub into their ice-cream, they sat, curled into each other and nestled into the pillows. Not a single limb of Peter’s _wasn’t_ tangled with Juno’s somehow, and he was getting pins and needles in one arm, and Juno’s curls were tickling his face, and he loved it. He loved when Juno jokingly made them feed each other ice-cream, the shaky painful clink of the metal spoon against his teeth when Juno giggled too hard to hold his hand straight. He loved the sticky-cold kisses they shared throughout all the best parts of the movies, Juno’s hands in Peter’s hair and Peter’s heart knocking against his ribs. He loved the way his stomach dropped and his heart fluttered every time Juno locked eyes with him, or said his name.

The tealights flickered. Onscreen, two people kissed softly outside a restaurant in the rain. Juno sighed and turned his head into Peter’s collarbone, kissing him there before nestling his head against him. “This is perfect,” he said softly. “You’re perfect.”

Peter’s fingers tightened in the fabric of Juno’s shirt, his chest cold with breathlessness. It was unfair, the way Juno Steel made him feel.

* * *

“Nureyev,” he breathed out, “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

“Mmm,” Peter’s cold mouth didn’t move from the warm skin of Juno’s neck, “And I’m giving you an immersive experience.”

A loud, well-timed gasp emanated from the comms screen.

Juno laughed and hitched his breath and tipped his head back, “Well, in that case…”

Peter leaned up to kiss the taste of chocolate out of his mouth. Juno sighed softly, and then moaned softly, and reached over to coax Peter into his lap. They kissed, long and loving and just a little bit hot and heavy, until Juno broke away.

“Nureyev,” he said softly, “Do you remember the first time? Our—our first time, I mean.”

Peter blinked at him, brushing some curls out of his forehead and letting his answer age on his tongue, “I found it rather difficult to forget.”

“Can you—” Juno started. He took a deep breath and leaned in to catch Peter’s lips. Peter kissed him as well as he could until Juno broke away again, “That night, I… it was like nothing else. Can you do it like that again? Please?”

“Oh, Juno,” Peter sighed, and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, his jawline, under his ear, “Yes. Yes, yes, of course.”

“Think you can keep me quiet?” Juno teased, “Or should we move to your room?”

A flash in Peter’s head: his room.

“Honey?” Juno asked, concerned, “Are you okay?”

Peter smiled disarmingly and leaned down to kiss him, “There’s no need to move, my dear. I can think of more than enough ways to keep your voice down.”

* * *

Juno’s hand was in his hand. His mouth was on every inch of Juno: his chest, his stomach, while he murmured words of soft, gentle praise against his skin. The other hand was busy driving the hypnotic rhythm of Juno’s voice above him, hitching and starting and stopping and shaking.

“Juno,” Peter whispered, “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”

* * *

The gentle after.

Peter lay on his back on the bed, watching the ceiling. Sweat was drying on his skin and his body was still recovering from its complete and total reboot.

He was trying to picture Juno in the jewellery he bought him.

Elegant crescent moons. Thin-chained necklaces.

He could hear Juno breathing heavily in the blankets beside him, occasionally letting a soft laugh bubble out of him and float away to dissolve in the air.

Their hands were intertwined in the blankets.

“That was incredible,” Juno sighed.

Peter could only picture himself wearing them.

Even the dress, in its mythological style, was designed for a long, lean body like his.

Juno rolled over and pressed a kiss to Peter’s bare shoulder. He let his hand rest, fingers splayed, on Peter’s chest. “Nureyev.”

“Hmm?” Nureyev lifted a hand to drift through Juno’s sweaty curls.

“I think I want to tell the others about us.”

Nureyev’s hand stopped. His mind was momentarily wiped of all other concern.

The change must’ve registered on his face, because Juno added quickly, “Not if that’s not what you want, I’m not trying to pressure you, I just…” Juno sighed. “I want to be with you. For… a long time. At least the foreseeable future. And I want to kiss you in the kitchen, and flirt with you at the table, and worry over you when you get hurt on missions instead of pretending like it doesn’t matter to me what happens to you.”

Peter smiled, and pulled Juno down into a soft kiss. “Yes,” he said when they parted, “I’d like that.”

* * *

Juno was asleep.

He was beautiful, the lines on his forehead mere shadows of the constant anxious creases that followed him around during the day. He was breathing softly, his bare chest flickering in the light of the tealights. Peter ached to think of how few people had seen this sight before, resolved to commit it to memory on their behalf.

The ice-cream tub was long-discarded on the floor, probably spilling. The comms screen was still playing some movie that both of them had long lost track of. The pillows were all over the place, down at their feet and at the side of the bed and the two they’d salvaged to use for the night behind their heads. All across the room was evidence of their relationship. Of the love and care Juno put into this, for him.

Peter turned into Juno and cuddled up to him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Juno grunted sleepily and put one arm around him.

* * *

“I’ll only be an hour, tops.”

Buddy leaned back against the bench and folded her arms, “You’re telling me you’d like me to delay our entire mission for you to rectify your market splurge?”

“I… yes,” Peter admitted, “I’m afraid I have no other excuse.”

Buddy’s lips quirked into a smile and she rolled her eyes, “You’re a very difficult person, Peter Ransom. I take it this has something to do with the noise complaint I received this morning from Jet. I’ll allow it this once on the condition that such a complaint never occurs again onboard my vessel.”

Struck by mortification, Peter had no choice for a moment but to stare, his mouth a little too open to be considered dignified, before suddenly snapping into gear. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Captain Aurinko,” Peter bowed, his face flushed, “I’m terribly sorry, I had no idea I—we were as loud as that. It will not happen again. In fact, I promise not to cause any further interference to our mission of any sort.”

“You can’t promise that, Ransom. If you’ll recall, darling, you’ve been the major cause of interference to our mission so far.”

Peter straightened back up, “That’s… a little harsh, I feel, but nonetheless, your point is taken. You won’t regret this.”

“Sure.”

Then it was a quick drive down to the marketplace they had yet to leave behind, and a long, tiring, and more-often-than-not threatening conversation with a hundred different stallholders on this particular asteroid, and eventually, Peter had all of his money back and his pockets empty.

He sighed. Time to start again.

* * *

“Alright. What’s the big surprise?”

“Just follow me, dear.”

Juno’s eyepatch had been adjusted to sit over his good eye, and he was allowing himself to be lead, one hand in Peter’s and the other wheeling wildly out in search of stray walls to protect himself from, “I don’t have much of a choice.”

“We’re almost there.”

“Are we going to your room?” Juno lowered his voice, “Is this foreplay?”

“Pardon you! You know I’d never blindfold someone for that reason without their enthusiastic and informed consent.”

Juno sighed, “Shame.”

Peter stopped at his door and keyed in the code on the panel that Rita had kindly installed for him, letting the door slide open. He walked Juno inside.

“Can I fix my eyepatch now?” he asked.

“Allow me,” Peter stood in front of Juno. He trailed his fingers steadily from Juno’s arm to his face so as not to frighten him with sudden touch, and carefully adjusted his eyepatch so that it sat comfortably over his eye-socket.

Juno blinked a few times to adjust to the light, and then raised his eyebrows at him, “So?”

“So: you showed me up last night.”

“Is that right?”

Peter nodded seriously, “And Juno, I don’t take well to being showed up.”

“Ah. _This_ is the foreplay.”

Peter repressed a small, fond smile, “No, love. I just wanted to thank you for last night, and apologise to you.”

“I’m confused. When does the foreplay start?”

Peter couldn’t stop himself from laughing then, and he stepped forward to catch Juno in a soft kiss, “No foreplay, my dear.”

“No? Then why are we here?” Juno wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist and looked up at him, “You’ve got nothin’ to apologise for, sweetheart.”

“I do. I’m sorry I didn’t get anything prepared for Valentine’s Day. Not when you went to all the trouble—”

“I—” Juno laughed softly and rested his head on Peter’s chest, swaying gently, “It was just ice-cream and some movies, Nureyev.”

“No. It was a part of your life that you shared with me, invited me into, and I want you to know I appreciate the significance of allowing me to share that with you.”

Juno stayed silent for a moment. Then he turned his head and kissed Nureyev’s chest. He leaned back, “You’re too good for me, Nureyev.”

“I think you’ll find it’s the other way around,” Peter leaned back to catch Juno’s gaze, “I hope you don’t mind that it’s late, but I did get you something this morning.”

“Is _that_ why you escaped my room in such a hurry? Here I was thinking you didn’t want the others to talk.” Juno smiled at him, “Alright then. What is it?”

Peter stepped gently away from Juno, letting his gaze fall onto the bed. In the middle of it sat a yellow pot with a green viny plant hanging out of the side, its leaves brushing the bottom sheet of Nureyev’s bed.

“It’s called Devil’s Ivy,” Peter explained. “The leaves are heart-shaped. I’ve heard you have quite the green thumb when the opportunity arises, Juno.”

“It’s gorgeous. And who’s this?” Juno stepped closer to the bed and reached out to pick out the second thing on the bed – a golden teddy bear propped up against the yellow pot.

“Ah, careful,” Peter warned, as Juno picked the teddy bear up, “She’s fragile. Second-hand. Intensive care.”

“She’s missing an eye,” Juno murmured, running his thumb over the space where a second button should be. He glanced over at Peter and smiled, “Subtle of you. She got a name?”

“Not yet.”

“Hm,” Juno held her out and looked her over under the light. “I think she looks like a Dahlia, don’t you?”

Peter beamed.

“If only,” Juno continued, putting his new companion down on the bed once again and turning to Peter, an odd look in his eye, “She was lucky enough to have a Duke.”

Peter’s grin stayed plastered on his face up until Juno tugged him down into a deep kiss.

* * *

“Can I ask you something weird?”

“Of course,” Peter said, propping himself up on one elbow in the bed. The pot plant was placed carefully on the floor, and Dahlia sat on the bedside table with her face modestly to the wall.

Juno sat up in the bed and reached over for Dahlia. He brushed a hand over the top of her head again, and then passed her to Peter, “Could you… spray her with your cologne?”

Peter took the teddy bear and sat up, “I can, but why?”

Juno shrugged a shoulder and glanced away, “Just for the nights you can’t be with me.”

There was silence for a moment. Juno glanced back over and then away again quickly, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to… I don’t know, cry or something.”

Peter laughed softly. He shook his head, and then climbed out of bed. He rattled through his jewellery box until he found a small bottle of his cologne, one that was close to empty.

“I have another one,” he explained, tossing it onto the bed for Juno.

Juno caught it and sprayed it into the air, leaning forward to catch the scent. He closed his eyes, a soft smile stretching across his face – at _Peter_ , at the smell of him. Peter’s heart throbbed.

Juno’s eye opened again. His smile stayed.

* * *

“Do you think I should get Dahlia a Duke?” Juno asked out of the blue.

They were tangled up on the couch in the common area, Juno between Peter’s legs with his back to Peter’s chest.

“Do you think she’s getting lonely?”

“Mm. I just don’t want her to be missing out, you know?” the rumble of Juno’s torso against Peter’s chest was comforting like few things in Peter’s life were, and Peter wrapped his arms around Juno’s stomach.

“Perhaps that can be your birthday gift, then. A Duke for your Dahlia.”

“Mm. _I’ve_ already got me one of those,” Juno twisted around in Peter’s arms to press their lips together. They kissed softly – in plain view, too, no more hidden hallway meetings and longing glances.

Peter broke from him softly and his eye was drawn to movement across the room, “Ah. Good morning, Miss Rita.”

“Mornin’ Mistah Ransom!” Rita said, and winked very hard, “Mornin’ Mistah Steel!”

“Hi, Rita,” Juno said. “How was your night?”

“Oh, nothin’ special, Mistah Steel. Anyways I just remembered I got somethin’ _real_ important to do a long way away on the other side of the ship, so I’ll be going,” she winked again, very hard, and then skipped out of the room.

Juno frowned and turned back to Peter, “Have you noticed that she does that, like… a lot, recently? Like, winks all the time? Do you have any idea why?”

Peter lay back down on the couch and shrugged his thin shoulders. “I wouldn’t have a clue,” he said.

“Eh. Doesn’t matter anyway,” Juno said, and then leaned down to catch Peter’s lips in another long kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> every comment i get is one hug! and i am... cuddle deprived. come yell at me on twitter!!! @onetiredb0y


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